“by the time i’ve finished with you, you won’t know whether you’ve been kissed or cut, whether you were loved or butchered. and either way you probably won’t care, just grateful you came close enough to touch.”
— Warsan Shire, “under their breath, someone said.”
mari-zuko·:
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Someone else may have winced at the sound of the beach ball smacking into someone’s head, but Mari just glanced over, apathetically watching the ensuing reactions. She sipped from her drink, just barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the over-dramatics - it was a beach ball, after all - her eyes returning to the person who had hit it at the muttered curse word. Quinn, of course. Mari was somewhat surprised to see her there, the relationship between Quinn and Greer….not great, to those who were aware, at least. Which, since Mari had been, definitely affected her own relationship with Quinn. The sorority rivalry only added to the bitter air between them. “Nice aim,” Mari said, shaking her hair back from her face a little bit. “They probably deserved it.”
quinn quickly turned away, brushing down her purple shirt in an attempt to obfuscate responsibility. her eyes flicked up. of course, it had to be mari. she would have clearly seen quinn's little social faux pas. her head cocked to the side. "i'm not captain of the championship-winning volleyball team for nothing," she couldn't resist tempting their usual competitiveness. "but thanks. i guess you have an eye for some things at least."
OVERVIEW
NAME: quinn morrison AGE: twenty two GENDER: cis woman PRONOUNS: she / her SEXUAL ORIENTATION: seemingly straight, hasn’t actually confirmed or denied anything ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: demiromantic HEIGHT: 5′3″ and she hates it NATIONALITY: american CURRENT RESIDENCE: her own apartment not far from campus MBTI: intj-t ZODIAC SIGN: cancer MAJOR: pre-med HOBBIES: violin, orchestra, volleyball, baking, knitting, judging SKILLS: organising anything, always has a spare pen, mental arithmetic, makes a great coffee, conversation starter, steady hands, quick reflexes, figure skater, touch typist, speed knitter LANGUAGES: this is quinn’s academic achilles heel, she has basic latin SCARS: none TATTOOS: see her naked and find out TAKES MEDICATION: yes NICKNAMES: quinneth (like kenneth), Q TROPE: the teacher’s pet ADDITIONAL TROPES: here BIRTHDAY: 14th of july, 2000 STAR CHART: here DEGREE: pre-med YEAR: sophomore EXTRACURRICULARS: women’s volleyball captain, sophomore class board, first chair violin in the orchestra, vp of recruitment at tri delt RELATIONS AT OGDEN: the morrison family SIBLINGS: one older paternal half brother, blake jr., one younger sister, slater PARENTS: blake and sade morrison HOMETOWN: noho, manhattan, ny AESTHETIC: a mix of vibrant and pastel academia POSITIVE TRAITS: driven, clever and romantic NEGATIVE TRAITS: stressed, critical and envious INSPIRATION: spencer hastings (pretty little liars) annie edison (community) amy santiago (brooklyn 99) lisa simpson (the simpsons) jal fazer (skins) hermione granger (harry potter series) PINTEREST: here
QUINN IN THE KITCHEN...
FAVOURITE FOOD: cinnamon buns
GOOD AT COOKING: yes
HOW SO: baking was how she bonded with her mother
LEAVES THE DISHES OUT: absolutely not
FOOD IN THEIR FRIDGE: vegan protein snacks, eggs, suspiciously organised tupperware, cold brew, milk
DO THEY GET TAKE OUT OFTEN: yes, when it comes to main meals/savoury food she eats out
LIVING ROOM...
SPENDS THE WEEKENDS: studying as much as she can, duh
WHAT KIND OF MOVIES DO THEY WATCH: she's a sucker for old disney
WHAT DO THEY DO WITH FRIENDS: be the mom of the group mostly
FAVOURITE PASTTIME: knitting / crochet
FAVOURITE TV SHOW: botched
BATHROOM...
PREPARES IN THE MORNING: wake up with the sun, shower, meditate, coffee
SINGS IN THE SHOWER: she hums
PRODUCTS SMELL LIKE: oranges and cinnamon
ARE THEY CLEAN: yes, though she has been known to let it slip in exam season
TOWELS: pink cotton with a high thread count
BEDROOM...
SLEEPS: on her back within a strict schedule for eight hours (because even rest can be perfected)
PJS: usually a matching silk camisole and shorts two piece
SOCKS WHILE SLEEPING: yes, knitted ones she makes
DREAMS: barely remembers them
TIDY: yes but she has a housekeeper
ARE THEY AFFECTIONATE: yes
ATTIC...
WHAT ARE THEY AFRAID OF: being ignored, shame, clowns
BAD MEMORIES: tucked away, hidden and denied
ROLE IN A HORROR MOVIE: the sensible expert who dies in the sequel
HOW DO THEY HIDE THEIR SECRETS: by being the cliché everyone expects
QUINN'S CHILDHOOD & FAMILY
quinn was born at the height of summer in an exclusive new york private hospital, the first child of her parents' new marriage. she was planned perfectly; exactly eleven months after their wedding ceremony. she has always got on with her mother, both equally studious and stubborn. her father, on the other hand, wanted another son and has never been afraid to make that clear. the spare to the heir, if you will. his first son to his first wife is the apple of his eye. even named after him. this is where quinn's endless need for approval started. it was a stable home but she has never felt like she was enough. several digits of trust fund has made no difference.
QUINN'S RELATIONSHIP WITH GREER
they were shoved together from the start, being so close in age. it was like the wider family wanted them to be surrogate sisters. this started off great, when their life was simpler, a close childhood bond of two girls with the world at their feet. but as hormones hit, so did resentments. greer became popular and beloved. quinn stayed scholarly and rigid. she worked hard for every piece of credit she got while her cousin just had to smile and bat her lashes. on the outside, they've always been friendly. family is family and nobody fakes it up for the public like the morrison's do. any fight that's happened has been quickly hushed. those who know them better, though, have seen the pointed knives sheathed between honeyed words.
FACTS
almost always has her nose in a book when alone
the only thing more important than the grind is being the best at it
travelled before enrolling in college
top grades, high achiever, chases knowledge
peak girly
obsessive note taker and stationary collector
fuelled by nootropic mushroom coffee and vegan protein snacks
needs approval like plants need water
second-in-command syndrome
secretly leaves pencil annotations and cute notes in library books
the notion app rules her life
being a morrison, she has money to burn
cooks and bakes to unwind
falls asleep to nature documentaries
QUINN’S BIOGRAPHY ※ QUINN’S PLAYLIST
OOC
annie, 26, gmt. she/they. no triggers.
——— ⁂ Quinn had spent the day now gone at her apartment in town. She needed to decompress. The amount of studying she was forcing herself to do wasn't healthy. She knew that, she did, and yet she carried on. Part of it was the same anxiety she had carried her whole life: that at some point, she would get complacent and fail horribly for everyone to see. She had come so close a few times. Mostly it was a distraction. If Quinn worked herself to the bone, there wouldn't be time to think about her missing cousin, the heightened public interest in her family, her tangled feelings. It had taken accidentally crashing in the library last night for her to finally take a day off. Was it a waste of a day? Absolutely. But that was what she needed. Challenging herself to a chocolate macaron recipe by Pierre Hermé, the sun had long set by the time she had 24 little iced meringues she was content enough with.
Walking back to campus, sealed tupperware hugged tightly in her arms, Quinn was wrapped in a thick woollen coat that grazed her ankles. She imagined she might cut an intimidating figure in the shadows if she wasn't the height of nothing. The sophomore hadn't noticed it was Ollie walking ahead of her until he turned around. She grinned. ❝ Would you like to bleed out fast and get it over with or nice and slow so you can ponder over all your terrible life choices ? ❞
Near the dorms, Late Wednesday Night. ( open ! )
It was colder outside than Ollie had thought as he walked from the dorms to the nearby 7-11 to get a Big Gulp late at night, and back again. He’d spent more than enough time in his room, really only leaving for one of two reasons. Going to class, or visiting Monty(/replenishing his supply). But he couldn’t last all week in a dark room sitting in front of a computer screen working out this phone tracking issue, and sorting out any pre mid-term issues he was having before that time of the year came up out of no where, like it seemed to every year. It was one of the busiest times of the year for his business, but also one of the most lucrative, so he wouldn’t complain. It was nice to get some fresh air, despite the nearly freezing temperatures as he walked along the campus sidewalk back towards Waverly, chewing on the bright red straw from the large plastic cup in his hand, slowing when he started to notice foot steps behind him. “Please tell me you’re following me because you’re planning on stabbing me, that will solve so many of my problems,” he said, turning to see who it was behind him. “Please?”
aceofportsmouth·:
He kept smiling. She wouldn’t break his exterior. “Personally, I wouldn’t have put something like this on, but I didn’t know Greer too well. Was she the type to want the party to keep going?” Booker inquired. Greer was still an enigma to him. Despite nothing being revealed by her, their brief encounters were memorable. Her cousin surely knew her better than he did. “She seemed cool. Were you both close?” Booker didn’t have any cousins, but he would like to think if he did they would be close.
quinn shrugged. "she is the type, to be honest, but greer's never exactly been known for making the best decisions." at least to anyone who could think independently of the golden girl's influence, she thought to herself. "and we are. we were. well, as close as any relatives around the same age could be. we grew up together, went to the same schools, spent breaks with our family. i think we just eventually grew up to be very different people with very different interests." the blonde touted the same vague answers everybody knew to the stranger.
kitkallberg·:
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Of course not followed by Quinn gesturing over her shoulder. Kit didn’t know what to believe. His face crumpled in confusion. “Uhh no,” he answered. “I mean, it was a beach ball so it’s not like I’m injured. It hurt just a bit.” Whoever whacked that ball had some serious fire in their palms. He continued to rub the back of his head for a moment more before dropping his hand to his side. “But uh, hey,” he greeted. “Are you…” Having a good time? No, that wasn’t the right thing to ask. “You’re here,” he decided to say instead. A bit surprised Quinn showed up at all.
—quinn tittered. "no shit, sherlock." you're here. she'd forgotten how completely awkward kit could be. he got away with it, too; a puppy transfigured into a six-foot-something beefcake. if she ever let herself, quinn would miss the friendship they had struck up when he first arrived. but she was quinn morrison and she didn't do that. at least, that's what she told herself. "got to be. what if your girl shows up?" she asked with a bitter rhetoric.